Turnabout Kings
by Kereea
Summary: A series involving quite a lot of what-ifs. What if Miles reunited with Phoenix much earlier than canon? What if Mia lived? What if Apollo was in Troupe Gramarye? What if Bobby Fulbright was originally assigned to a prosecutor other than Simon Blackquill? How would that change everything?
1. Miles Part 1

A/N: A whole series was sparked by someone wondering what would have happned if Miles Egdeworth, still in his Bratworth stage, ,et college Phoenix aka Feenie. Miles only has the first story, but let's not get ahead of ourselves!

.o.o.o.

Miles Arc Part 1: Hello Again

.o.o.o.

Miles had never known what to do with the letters he'd gotten in Germany from Phoenix. He hadn't even known how Phoenix had figured out how to send them so far or even where to send them to in the first place.

He'd never replied. Phoenix was, in the end, a reminder of a different life.

But then he'd gotten more when he moved back to Los Angeles. And a couple calls where he'd picked up the phone and been too startled at the voice on the other end—how Wright could have grown up and still sounded so much like himself Miles had no idea—and eventually he'd answered the incessant requests for a meeting.

Maybe it was the guilt of ignoring one of the few people in existence who genuinely seemed to admire him. Maybe it was wanting some connection to a past he'd all-but had to sever. Maybe he was just lonely and Phoenix was something like a peer.

He'd finally gotten Phoenix to agree that no, they were not meeting in public, they were meeting at Miles' apartment (Miles did not feel like subjecting himself to the various imbeciles that likely lived in Wright's dorm and a public meeting was out of the question).

He sternly convinced himself that he did not flinch at the sharp, quick knocks on his apartment door. "One second." He got the latch off and opened it, "Hello, Ph-"

"Miles!"

Miles jerked at the sudden hug. He really wasn't used to so much contact, outside of Franziska when her control lapsed for a moment, and he just wasn't sure what to do. He stood still until a sheepish Phoenix released him.

"Sorry, man, I'm just really glad to see you again…" Phoenix rubbed the back of his head, smiling weakly.

Miles took him in. The hair wasn't too much more outrageous than when they'd been children, though it had an odder look on an adult. Phoenix had on a respectable, if slightly over-large, blue sweater and black slacks. A messenger bag was slung over his shoulders, and unlike his clothes there was no hiding how worn out it was.

"It's…good to see you again too," Miles said slowly.

What surprised him the most was that it really was good to see him. Right now all Miles had in his life were the von Karmas, a few bumbling detectives with the majority scared witless of him, and a slew of annoying attorneys and reporters who liked calling him a demon.

Someone who smiled when they saw him was frankly rather welcome.

"Well…come in," Miles added, realizing they'd been standing in the doorway for who knows how long.

"Oh…yeah!" Phoenix chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. He followed Miles inside the apartment. "Wow, you really like pink!"

"It's magenta," Miles pointed out. "Didn't some of your letters say you were studying _art_, Wright?"

"You read them?"

Miles flinched at the excited look in Phoenix's eyes. "Ah…yes. All of them."

"Well…why didn't you write me back?"

The hurt in those eyes was worse than the excited look. Much worse.

"I…I spent a long time wondering if I was the same person you were writing to," Miles settled on. That was pretty much the short version of his feelings over those letters and calls, after all.

"That sounds both really deep and really weird," Phoenix quipped.

"Funny," Miles said.

A silence seemed to try and settle, but Phoenix apparently noticed it and started talking again, "And anyway I'm not an art major anymore."

"You're not?"

"Nope. Switched to law."

"…Why?"

"Well, at first it was because _someone_ still wasn't talking to me and I decided you'd have to respond if we faced off in court…but now I just really like it," Phoenix admitted. "I wouldn't drop my courses with Professor Woods and Professor Forrest for anything! Especially Professor Woods! I mean she's like the queen of making the law seem accessible to clients so they know what you're doing-"

"I've heard of Mrs. Woods," Miles said. "Though I've never gotten to face her in court since she mostly deal with class-action suits these days instead of defending in state trials."

"I don't care how badass a prosecutor you are, she'd give you a run for your money," Phoenix chuckled. "Though she did smack me once for changing majors over 'a guy'. Apparently when she went to Harvard it was to chase a crush. Weird, huh?"

"Did you explain the differing situation?" Miles asked.

"No. Mr. Forrest said to just smile and nod," Phoenix admitted. "Plus I _couldn't_ tell _them_…that was right after you'd trounced Mr. Forrest in court!"

"That was a good day," Miles admitted smugly.

Phoenix gave him a weird look, "What do you mean?"

"I enjoy putting away criminals," Miles replied.

"Oh, okay," Phoenix shrugged. "I actually didn't see much of that trial—studying for finals for that semester."

"It was nothing special," Miles said. "It's my job, nothing more."

"So…why did you become a prosecutor, anyway?"

Miles kept his expression flat though inside he was cursing the topic he had known would come up eventually. He'd actually been starting to…relax…around Wright and now… "People change, Wright. I never would have thought you'd have gone into law in fourth grade. Criminology maybe, but not law."

Wright seemed to accept that, "Yeah. On the other hand I think we both knew Larry'd drop out on us."

"At least he apparently thought to get a GED, from your letters," Miles said.

"Yeah, along with a different girl every other month. Larry reminds me of those times Mrs. Woods describes her younger self as being 'in love with love'."

"I wouldn't know," Miles admitted.

The next silence was more comfortable than the one Phoenix had needed to interrupt, and lasted for a few minutes until Phoenix looked at Miles clock. "Oh, man! I've got to go, Miles, class in the morning…um…see you later?"

"…I wouldn't mind seeing you for lunch sometime," Miles said.

Phoenix hugged him again, but this time Miles managed to just move enough to pat his friend on the back.

.o.o.o.

The rekindled friendship was rather comfortable for Miles. Phoenix learned fast there were just things he did _not_ need to ask his friend about and stopped trying to find out too much about Miles' life before moving back to the states. Miles, on the other hand, felt himself able to open up about a few other things with Phoenix—mostly rotten days at the office or annoyingly over-complex cases or people who abused loopholes in efforts to get obviously guilty clients off.

They'd had an argument or two, mostly with Phoenix pointing out that Miles probably had a higher standard of evidence than most courts in existence and Miles arguing that Phoenix wouldn't know if he was defending an innocent man or a guilty one unless it all came out in court anyway.

The fights never lasted long. Miles found that being around Phoenix again was addictive. It gave him something to look forward to in comparison to the endless stream of cases he got for the state and the equally endless snippy emails from Manfred. Phoenix seemed to feel the same, getting sulky if Miles ignored him for more than a week and often apologizing over nothing if he thought he'd somehow been the one in the wrong.

That had led to one very amusing conversation where Miles hadn't been able to contact Phoenix for a week due to losing his phone and not knowing his friend's email or new dorm address. By the time Miles had gotten his phone back—it had been under a cop's desk all week, battery long-dead—Phoenix had apparently thought Miles wasn't talking to him anymore.

Miles had never gotten hugged so many time in one night when he managed to text Phoenix for lunch and an explanation.

One day, though, Phoenix was…_unusually_ distracted. Miles let it go through dinner, but while they waited for desert he just had to ask, "What's with you today?"

Phoenix had blushed deeply before grinning and announcing, "I met a girl!"

At the moment Miles couldn't tell why that made his stomach drop, and had blamed it on the lasagna.


	2. Miles Part 2

A/N: Had to rewrite part of this when I recalled Doug Swallow was electrocuted, not poisoned. All facts of the case not brought up are the canon ones.

.o.o.o.

Miles Arc Part 2: The Other Bench

.o.o.o.

Something felt very off about Dahlia Hawthorne. She seemed similar to the girl from the Fawles case, but there was something about her demeanor…

Miles convinced himself that he didn't care as long as Phoenix was happy. Dahlia was perfectly nice to him whenever they ended up meeting for random reasons, though she seemed oddly put out whenever Miles mentioned the necklace she'd given Phoenix. She usually covered it by saying she was prouder of the the sweater—Miles personally found it a crime against sartorial law, but if Phoenix liked it then fine—but something still buzzed in the back of Miles' brain over the whole thing.

He wondered if he was jealous. With Larry up north working at a ski lodge he'd had all of Phoenix's free time to himself. Maybe he was just being selfish.

One day Dahlia came by to pick of Phoenix's cold medicine—left after a night of Miles helping him study for a law test—and alarm bells went off in Miles' head.

She was…oddly curt about the whole deal. The Dahlia Miles had met often engaged in small talk for no other reason than to do so and hated making short calls on people, feeling it was rude to interrupt them without niceties.

This girl was out the door the second she found the bottle. Miles wondered if Phoenix's symptoms had gotten worse…but no, she'd have told him, right?

Something was very wrong.

He just didn't know what it was until he got a very terrifying phone call late that night.

.o.o.o.

"Miles?"

"Wright, do you know what time it is?"

"…Late, I know."

"What is it then," Miles said, balancing the phone on his shoulder as he sat up.

"Woke you up, huh?"

"Wright, what is it?"

"…I got arrested."

"You _what_?"

"I didn't do it!" Phoenix protested. "I shoved the guy, sure, but he was fine!"

"Slow down," Miles said. "What are you talking about?"

"Some guy said some…really nasty stuff about Dollie," Phoenix muttered. "And I hit him and walked off. When I came back from the library he was dead…and had my medicine for some reason…"

"Wright, how long since you've _had_ your medicine?" Miles asked. He sounded pretty stuffy…

"Um…when we were studying," Phoenix admitted. "I thought you still had it, actually."

"Wright, I gave it to you…girlfriend…this morning…" Miles said, his stomach knotting in dread.

"But then how did it get there?"

Miles resisted the urge to berate Phoenix and call him a lovesick idiot. "I'll be at the detention center in half an hour. All right?"

"Thanks, Miles. Could you call Dollie and let her know?"

Miles made a noncommittal noise and hung up. The last thing he was going to do was get that girl in on this incident…assuming she hadn't had anything to do with it already.

.o.o.o.

"What?!"

"What's with the face?" Phoenix asked, flinching.

"What did you just…are you out of your…" Miles stammered, rubbing his forehead.

"I asked you to defend me."

"Wright, it is illegal to act as an attorney without being one! I'm a prosecutor!" Miles protested.

"Technically anyone can represent you in court as long as they don't claim to be something they're not," Phoenix pointed out.

"But based on the law they cannot do that without a lawyer of proper certification observing in the cases of capital crimes. Which murder is!" Miles pointed out. "…What about your professors? I know you like quite a few of them?"

"State law, no legal professor may engage in a trial one of the students of their university is in as anything other than a witness unless it is the university itself on trial," Phoenix said, a weak grin slightly visible behind his surgical mask. "Besides, I'd rather have you than any of them. Even Mrs. Woods. I already know how good you are at having to defend me."

"Phoenix…I…" Miles sighed. "Am not a defense attorney. I'll…see what I can do, all right?"

He didn't mention that he'd gotten Detective Gumshoe to run Dahlia's prints on the bottle.

.o.o.o.

"Fey Law Offices, Mia Fey speaking."

"This is Miles Edgeworth. I'd like to hire you."

There was a pregnant pause, "May I ask why, Edgeworth?"

"Because my friend is in jail for a crime he did not commit."

"You sound so certain about innocence when you know the defendant."

Miles glared at the phone. "Listen. I also think I know who did it, but I need you to supervise me in the trial."

"Wait…_you're_ defending?" Fey asked.

"It was at the behest of a good friend. I will pay you as if you were defending, if that's the issue."

"Edgeworth…what are you not telling me?"

"I think the culprit is my friend's…_girlfriend_," Miles said, spitting out the relation. "Dahlia Hawthorne."

The other side of the phone sounded so dead Miles was worried Fey had hung up. Finally Fey, sounding horrified, asked, "What?"

"She's involved," Miles said. "There's no other way to explain a certain piece of evidence, but I don't want to go any further unless I know you'll help."

"…You remember the Fawles case," Fey surmised.

"And am having my opinion on it altered as we speak," Miles replied. "Fey, if you don't help I don't know another attorney to call and we'll have a mistrial if I do anything without one."

"All right," Fey said. "I'll be there in half an hour. If he's as lovesick as Fawles-"

"He is," Miles interjected.

"Well snap him out of it!"

"How exactly do I do that?" Miles asked. "The girl has more hold over him than a damn siren for crying out loud! I can't even suggest she set him up or he'll probably perjure himself or worse!"

"Well clearly you're trying to help him and she's not there right now," Fey said. "So I'd say you could use the fact that you care more than she does."

"…Not exactly. I might have not informed her of this…"

"Well then I know you really care. Just try your best," Fey said before hanging up.

Miles headed back through security to Phoenix's holding cell. "You lucked out, Wright. Fey said she'd help."

"Really?" Phoenix asked. The hope in his eyes was painful.

"We really should just let her defend you," Miles sighed. "I have no idea what I'm even doing…"

"Well, maybe we could figure out how my medicine got there?" Phoenix asked.

"I think I already know," Miles said. "But it's not a theory you'll like."

.o.o.o.

"What happened?" Fey asked upon seeing her client in a corner, deliberately not looking at the viewing window.

"I may have answered truthfully when he asked how I thought a piece of evidence fit in," Miles said.

"Accused Hawthorne?"

"Yes," Miles admitted. "It just slipped out…"

"Dollie didn't do it!" Phoenix huffed.

"I never said that!" Miles snapped. "I said the only way the bottle could have gotten there is if she put it there! That's completely different!"

Fey looked at him, "It's really not."

"Would it kill you to…help? Or something?" Miles asked.

Fey sat in front of the window. "Hi, Phoenix, my name is Mia. I'm a defense attorney."

"Then can you tell Miles how to defend a guy without accusing his girlfriend?"

Fey smiled, "Well, Edgeworth has always been one for evidence, so it's natural he pounced on that odd contradiction when he saw it. What I want to know is what you think happened."

"I…don't know," Phoenix admitted. "But Dollie didn't do it any more than I did!"

"I never said anything about 'Dollie' Phoenix," Fey said calmly. "I just want to know what happened with Swallow. Okay?"

"He said some stuff about Dollie and I hit him and walked off," Phoenix said. "That's it."

"Mm-hm," Fey said. "Edgeworth, could you do me a huge favor and get me the autopsy report? Maybe something in it will jog your friend's memory?"

Miles stared at her, but did as suggested. He supposed attorneys had it harder when they couldn't order a detective to do this kind of thing.

He flipped through the copy on the way back to the cell, his eyes widening. The death wasn't due to the just a fall.

Doug Swallow had been electrocuted.

.o.o.o.

"Those cables powered a whole building," Fey said. "He'd have been dead instantly."

"But how would someone even get a hold of them? And why Swallow anyway?" Miles asked.

"Phoenix?" Fey asked, seeing the man on the other side of the glass flinch. "What do you know?"

Phoenix shook his head.

"Damn it, Wright, you asked me to defend you, but I can't do that unless you talk to me!" Miles snapped.

"Edgeworth," Fey said warningly.

"No, hell no, I am not treating him with kid gloves over this anymore," Miles said. "Phoenix, I know you care about this girl. I have watched you care about her for six months. No, I don't entirely understand her motive either. But damn it I will not let you get yourself convicted trying to save her when everything points to her trying to frame you! Do you understand?"

Phoenix stared at him in what appeared to be mute shock. Miles kept going.

"Do you have any idea what will happen to you, Wright? Premeditated is first degree, especially this kind with so much overkill! _You will die_ unless we prove you did not do it and unless you actually tell me what you know I won't be able to save you!" he punched the wall beside the viewing window and glared at the floor.

"…You know, when I first got into law, I was wondering if I'd have to save you."

Miles looked up. Phoenix was rubbing his arm.

"…I mean, you seemed like you'd become a totally different person and I guess that worried me and like I said in September, I thought that might be the only way to get to talk to you," Phoenix said. "I mean, I remember really hoping if you needed saving, you'd let me…"

"How do you know I don't need saving?" Miles muttered.

"Well…I guess if you are sure…really sure…?" Phoenix asked. "I mean, I'd be a jerk if I was trying to save you but won't let you save me, huh?"

Miles flinched at a hand on his shoulder. Fey was smiling at him proudly.

He remembered what she'd said on the phone. About him caring about Phoenix.

"What do you know?" Fey asked Phoenix.

.o.o.o.

"You know, for an attorney, you seem quite sure she's guilty," Miles noted as the trial started.

"I'll tell you later," Mia said. "Opening statement, Edgeworth, have it ready…"

Miles managed to do fairly well in the trial, though he was pretty sure that a lot of it was due to facing Winston Payne instead of some more competent prosecutor. Hell, if he'd been against Franziska or Manfred he'd be hard-pressed to keep Phoenix safe, innocent or not.

It was an interesting experience. He'd already known to temper most of his taunts, as the defense usually didn't get away with such things as easily, but it felt rather…crushing…all the same. The court genuinely thought he was defending a guilty man, a murderer.

Was this how his father had felt?

Finally Fey's old boss, Grossberg, had shown up with something Fey had been waiting for…hospital records for Fey's boyfriend. He'd been poisoned with Atroquine. The same as Terry Fawles… And traces of Atroquine had been found inside the necklace Dahlia had been trying to get from Phoenix for months, as both Miles and Phoenix had testified.

"You dated Doug Swallow around the time Armando was poisoned," Miles said, his confidence higher than it had been the whole trial. "And Wright admitted Swallow accused you of stealing from the pharmaceutical department."

"There's no evidence that they are the same Atroquine, even if you and Wright weren't cooperating to frame Miss Hawthorne," Payne argued.

"That's not what I'm saying," Miles said. "I never even said she stole Atroquine. Swallow accused her of stealing two other chemicals, actually, that form a poison when mixed with…amphetamines."

"So?" Payne asked.

"The chemicals she stole…were actually to poison someone as well," Miles said. "Someone who wouldn't give her what she wanted…that bottle necklace."

"W-what?" Phoenix asked. "Miles, that can't be it-"

Miles ignored him, "Wright's cold medicine was, as I testified, picked up from my apartment by Dahlia."

Fey and Grossberg both nodded firmly.

"She realized she couldn't poison him when she heard him and Swallow arguing," Miles added. "Because then Swallow would suspect her. So instead she killed him and framed Wright for a better effect, for as the court can plainly see, my client is unable to think of her as a killer."

He couldn't even bring himself to look at Phoenix right then. He just heard a quiet, "Dollie?" from his right and kept his eyes on the stand.

On that stand, something changed in Hawthorne. "Wright, honestly, how can any woman ever count on you for anything? I even told you time and time again to keep your trap shut about me and that necklace. ...You disgust me!"

"Wh-what?" Phoenix asked.

Miles frowned. She'd never really liked the necklace, no, but she'd never told Phoenix to shut up about it that he knew.

"Besides, his friend's whole idea is insane," Hawthorne added.

"All right then," Miles snapped. "Why don't you drink some of that cold medicine, then?"

"What?" Hawthorne asked.

"I said if you didn't poison the cold medicine, then it must be safe to drink," Miles said. "After all some of it was used the night before you came to pick it up and there were no ill effects."

Hawthorne stared at the bottle for a minute, Then she glared at Miles and Mia, "I won't forget this."

"Well then, be assured I'll do all I can to forget you," Miles said as the verdict was handed down.

.o.o.o.

"You did a good job up there," Fey said to Miles. "So did you, Phoenix. You ever do become an attorney, my firm's always open. You too, Edgeworth, if you decide on a career change!"

"Thanks," Phoenix said with a shaky smile.

"Come on, Wright," Miles said. "You're still sick, remember? I'm going to get you some more medicine and then we can hash out this whole…situation at my place, all right?" He sighed, he probably only had until the news went out tomorrow before he got a phone call he was dreading…

"Yeah," Phoenix said. "Bye, Miss Fey!"

As they walked away, Mia Fey smiled. It looked like all it had taken to shake up a demon was a friend. Who knew?


	3. Miles Part 3

A/N: After this there's only one more part of the Miles arc and then we move to the Phoenix one! Reviews are loved!

.o.o.o.

Miles arc Part 3: Doubts and Demons

.o.o.o.

They had talked for several hours and gone through most of Miles' better tea before Phoenix was ready to sleep and forget.

Miles wasn't even sure how he'd helped. He hadn't done much talking, it wasn't his thing. Feelings weren't his thing. But Phoenix seemed dead-convinced that Miles had done a great job and really helped and yadda-yadda.

It was testament to how tired Miles was that he was thinking in such terms. He hadn't slept since Phoenix's call the night before. He'd been worried about his friend, he didn't need to add his nightmares to the mix. And even now with Phoenix asleep and safe he couldn't risk the nightmares, because Manfred could call at any time and he needed to work out his rebuttals.

One, this hadn't damaged his prosecuting record, he'd done everything within the law and from what Fey had emailed him from an online publication, the general consensus was that he'd done an amazing job "uncovering the conspiracy" of Dahlia Hawthorne.

Two, as noted by that publication, he put away someone who had likely committed more than just the two murders they had proved. She was clearly behind her sister's and Fawles' as well-

Shit. Fawles. That did affect his record. Even if it was never officially overturned it was implied to be wrong. Damn it. Point one would have been the one Manfred would have cared about the most.

"Miles, what're you doin'? Gonna wear a hole in th' floor..."

Miles looked at Phoenix, still in his clothes that were now even more mussed due to sleeping in them. Minus, he noted with mild glee, that infernal sweater. "I'm thinking about things."

"What things?" Phoenix asked, stretching as he walked into the room. For some reason Miles found his eyes drawn to the flash of skin at Wright's waist exposed by the action. How odd.

"Important things," Miles brushed off. "You need to go back to bed, Phoenix. You're still sick."

"Can't sleep," Phoenix retorted. "What's up?"

"This case has…given me some pause in regards to my career," Miles said slowly. "I know I only told you when we got back here after the trial, but Hawthorne was a witness of mine before."

"Yeah," Phoenix agreed, "And that's why you'd been iffy around her at first and then worried about me during the trial and stuff."

"The trial was a disaster," Miles said. "The previous one, I mean. While it looked like I had the defendant, Fey was about to turn it around…when he poisoned himself on the stand. While there was no verdict overall, the consensus in the legal world was that I'd…won."

He grimaced at the term. He'd thought it a bit tacky to apply to a defendant's death at the time but now, especially with circumstances exposed…

Phoenix gave him a look that prompted him to keep talking. Phoenix was really quite good at that, Miles would have to thank him sometime…

"Now I am…burdened with having to analyze all my other wins as a response to today's trial," Miles sighed, wrapping his arms around himself tightly.

"Miles," Phoenix said, getting up.

"I'll be fine, Wright. Really, get back in bed," Miles huffed.

He felt arms wrap around him and was a bit annoyed that all he could think to say was "You'd better not get me sick."

"I've had this a week. Only infectious during the first three days. _You're_ the one who made me go to the campus doctor," Phoenix pointed out smugly.

Miles ignored how nice the hug felt, "Exactly, you are still ill. Bed, Phoenix. The trial stress probably did a number on your immune system."

"Speaking from experience?" Phoenix asked cheekily.

"Wright, until today I've never had a reason to be worried I court," Miles said seriously. "And now I'm starting to see that as a problem."

"You want to talk about it?" Phoenix asked. "I talked your ear off for a few hours, you can totally return the favor!"

"Look, I'm actually expecting-"

The phone rang sharply, piecing the apartment's air.

"A call," Miles sighed. "Bed, Wright. Now. I mean it."

He knew Phoenix hadn't moved or even attempted to by the time he got to the phone. "Miles Edgeworth speaking."

"Miles, might I ask the reason there is a lot of news online relating to you…defending a case instead of prosecuting?"

Miles winced. Manfred was using his polite voice. He was doomed.

Miles swallowed, "I could not have prosecuted the case. I had part of the evidence that supported the defense. As I was thus required to testify I would not have been able to properly prosecute the case."

"And how would anyone have known you had that evidence if you hadn't told them?"

"The defendant would have pointed it out. He also knew I had it."

"Ah yes your…friend," Manfred drawled, his usual condescending tone seeping into his voice. It was almost comforting since it wasn't the false concern and anything was better than that.

"What about him? Miles asked, forcing himself to keep his voice flat despite the worried look he was getting from Phoenix.

"Miles, while I understand how deeply one can care for a friend-" Miles caught himself mid-eye-roll and stopped it "-you do realize that you were acting just like Robert Hammond in there, right?"

"What? No! I-" Miles forced himself to stop sounding panicked. "I found the real murderer and protected someone falsely accused. I fail to see how that equates at all."

"Miles," Phoenix started quietly, only for Miles to cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"Don't you see how this could affect your prosecuting record?" Manfred sighed, disappointment heavy. "It is your duty to assume _guilt_ in order to do your job properly."

"I do not see how proving an innocent is innocent affects my ability to prove the guilty as guilty."

"Well, I'm not so sure, but perhaps I am being too harsh," Manfred said smoothly. "You must be quite tired after all. What time is it in California anyway? Well, I'm sure your future endeavors will simply just have to prove my concern baseless, won't they?"

"I'm sure," Miles said tightly. As the other end of the line cut, he flung the phone into his bedroom, hearing a loud crack as it hit his dresser.

"What the heck was that?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with," Miles said, catching Phoenix's arm and dragging him back into the guest room. "I can't believe you won't just go to bed, honestly, are you twelve?"

"Miles, what happened on that call?" Phoenix asked.

"…Nothing to concern yourself with," Miles repeated. "Please Wright…"

Phoenix smiled slowly, "I think you're the one who needs some rest, Miles. You're probably running on empty by now." He pulled his arm out of Miles' grip and wrapped it around the taller man's shoulders instead. "So…I'll go to bed if you will, okay?"

Miles frowned. He was already dreading the nightmares he'd be having after all this…but then again, Wright needed sleep, and so did he…he couldn't avoid it forever. "All right, Phoenix, you have a deal."

.o.o.o.

The nightmares had been getting worse. Miles blamed himself.

He'd promised himself to put away any criminal he came across, and anyone who made it to court even if he couldn't quite tell, just in case. It was the only way to be sure.

But now that was breaking down. While he still hadn't lost any cases, he hadn't been taking on as many, especially any time he wasn't sure from the facts alone.

He knew it was because he'd defended Wright. Suddenly actions he'd taken as the defense being desperate were shown to be reasonable with so much stacked against them by the way system worked.

It was getting to him. He was having trouble focusing and even if no one had noticed yet, they were going to soon. He was barely sleeping anymore anyway-

"Earth to Miles Edgeworth!"

Miles jerked, his eyes refocusing to see a grumpy Phoenix sitting across the table from him.

Right, they'd been out to celebrate Phoenix passing that year's exams. He had just gotten lost in his thoughts, "My apologies, Wright."

"…Let's just go," Phoenix sighed, pushing his food away. "You're starting to worry me, Miles, you look exhausted."

"That happens now and then when you're a lawyer," Miles said tightly. "Nothing to forgo dinner over."

"Miles, it's been two months you've been like that," Phoenix pointed out. "You need to get some rest, come on, I'll drive you home."

"If you _think_ you're touching my car, Wright-"

"Then we're leaving it here," Phoenix pointed out. "You are not in a state to drive, Miles. Got it?"

Phoenix being so oddly confrontational shut Miles up instantly and he let Wright call for the bill.

His thoughts drifted back to his cases. What if his other witnesses had been lying like Hawthorne? How many of them were murderers? Had he really let actual criminals walk free in an attempt to prove all defendants guilty?

"Come on, "Phoenix said, grabbing a box of food in one hand and Miles' arm in the other.

"Wright, this was supposed to be my treat," Miles argued.

"Then pay me back later, come on, you're going home to bed," Phoenix sighed.

Miles chuckled hollowly at the idea as he slid into the passenger seat, "Like that would help."

"What are you talking about?" Phoenix asked, adjusting the mirrors.

"You've stayed over enough times to know."

"…So those nightmares happen a lot?" Phoenix asked, backing the car out.

"Every night. Why do you think I keep so much coffee and tea on hand?"

"Have you tried…talking about them? I know you haven't with me, but-"

"I don't want to burden you unnecessarily."

"Miles you're…you're my best friend!" Phoenix sighed. "It's not unnecessary! In fact it's _incredibly_ necessary!"

"I can't, Wright," Miles said. "Drop it."

"No!" Phoenix said. "I let you save me, now you have to let me save you! And don't say you don't need saving, I heard you in the detention block before that case!"

"…I just don't want you to waste your time," Miles said instead.

"What are you even talking about?" Phoenix sighed.

Miles really wasn't sure where to go with that. He'd become more aware of…caring…for Wright but that didn't mean he'd deluded himself into thinking he could actually tell the other man about some of his deeper issues. To tell Phoenix he wasn't sure he could be saved.

"I've been plagued by…uncertainty lately," was what he settled on. "It's making my job rather…difficult."

"What do you mean?" Phoenix asked as they reached Miles' apartment building.

"I could not believe you were guilty."

"Thanks for that," Phoenix said, parking the car.

"No, you don't…I _need_ to be able to believe people are guilty, Phoenix. That is my job."

"Wait…knowing an innocent guy wasn't guilty is…messing with your ability to see the other people you try as guilty?" Phoenix asked. "Huh?"

"Phoenix, I have based my career on believing the people I convict wholly guilty."

"I follow that."

"But even if I don't know myself, my job is to put them away."

"Disagree, but still follow."

"Disagree?"

"You're allowed to find out what really happened."

"That is their attorney's job."

"But why would you bring the case to trial if you weren't sure?"

"I'm not the one who brings them to trial, Wright. I get assigned it after it's agreed there will be charges."

"But if you don't think the person is guilty then why take the case? Why not try and find the real killer?"

"That's the detective's job. And their attorney's."

"Okay, well, if you're doing your job then why is this bothering you?" Phoenix asked.

"Well maybe it's not bothering me as much as you seem to think it is."

"Miles, how did we get here?"

"What?" Miles asked, glancing around. "This is the hallway to my apartment, Wright. I'd assume we walked."

"Miles, we took the elevator. You _never_ take the elevator."

Miles blinked. "We…what?"

"You didn't even notice, did you?" Phoenix asked.

"I just…I…I shouldn't even be talking about this with you," Miles huffed.

"Well you're not going to talk about it with anyone else," Phoenix pointed out.

"I don't _want_ to talk about it!" Miles unlocked his door.

"I noticed. I'm just not so sure why this is eating at you like it is and I'm worried."

Miles hung his head, "Phoenix, before that trial…I thought I was best serving justice by putting away every defendant who came before me, no questions asked. But now…now I remember that she-demon lying on the stand. I remember you scared out of your mind and a hairsbreadth from a breakdown . And I become very afraid I don't know right from wrong anymore."

He was hugged from behind.

"You know right from wrong just fine, Miles," Phoenix said. "Maybe you just need a break from work or something to sort yourself out?"

That stung Miles right in his pride and he didn't want to do it but…if Phoenix was really this worried maybe it had affected him worse than he'd thought? Phoenix did know him better than he knew himself some days…

"One week only, Phoenix."

Phoenix hugged Miles tighter for a moment before releasing him just enough to steer him to his bedroom. "Seriously, sleep. Talk in in the morning, okay?"

"And how will you get home?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Phoenix said. "Someone has to keep an eye on those nightmares of yours!"

"I am not a child, Wright!"

"No, but you're my friend and I said I'd save you, didn't I?"

Miles had a very bad feeling he wouldn't be able to properly prosecute again when he looked into those eyes. "Yes. Yes you did."


End file.
